


That your real name?

by Jonah_Smith_907



Series: Meet Matt Murdock [1]
Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: M/M, really - Freeform, rooftop talks, this is all talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 07:54:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14184363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jonah_Smith_907/pseuds/Jonah_Smith_907
Summary: This is just the rooftop scene between Daredevil and the Punisher, though I changed it a little bit so I can make a series out of it.





	That your real name?

Matt woke with a startle and groaned. He didn't get any reaction, although he heard the Punisher standing just a few feet away, apparently looking at something. “This another one of your missions? That's why we're here, isn't it?”, Matt eventually asked. Frank just exhaled loudly, but didn't say anything and sat down instead. “How many will this make?” He poured away the rest of his coup of coffee. “I'm guessing you've done this, what ten, maybe 20 times?” The other one sighed deeply, a hint of annoyance mixing into it and shifted on his seat, made of boxes with weapons in them. “How long's it been? Six months, a year or your whole life? Something tells me you don't take breaks. You know, no one else has to die.” Frank assembled one of his guns with smooth routine. “You could stop now. Walk away.”

“Walk away? Could you do that? Could you walk away?” Frank waited for an answer, but all he got was wry look. He huffed. “Yeah.”

Suddenly a bell started chiming. “What is that, midnight?”, Daredevil asked. 

Frank walked past him, a rifle in his hand. “St. Matthew's.”

“You a Catholic?”

“Once.”

“From New York?”

“Once.”

The vigilante chuckled softly. “You still go to Mass?”

“Stop now, Red.”

“Stop?”

“Stop digging.”

“Ah.” Again they fell into silence for a while, until again, Matt felt the need to speak up: “You know, a funny thing about New York few people are actually from here. The ones who are they don't leave. They can't, they, uh they feel like the city's a part of them. You know? Until one day, something changes. Maybe they get older. And then they have to leave, they have to get out. See the world, maybe. Maybe they enlist? Where'd they send you?”

“You a shrink, Red?”, Frank huffed. “Now, come on, you must be something when you're not wearing the long johns, right?”

“I'm just a guy.”

“Yeah? You ever been to war?”

“No.”

“Yeah then don't talk about it.”

“I've seen some fights.”

“Sure you have.”

“Well, I almost had you beat.”

“You talk about trading hands on a rooftop, Red. I'm talking about shit, okay? Shit that you ain't been in.”

“I know one thing.”

“What's that?”

“War changes people. Sometimes they see things they can't unsee. Come home to find home's not there anymore. It changed.” Frank sighed at that. “Or maybe they did.”

“Yeah, fair enough.”

“I'm just saying, I know it can be hard.”

“Do you? You know it can be hard? You run around this city in a pair of little boy's pajamas and a mask. You go home at night, right? Take that mask off, maybe you think it wasn't you who did those things, maybe it was somebody else. Well, see, soldiers we don't wear masks, yeah? We don't get that privilege.”

“You know what I think?”

“What's that?”

“You're still at war.”

“Oh, for crying out loud. So, you charge by the hour, doc, or what?” Another sigh.

“Why am I here?”, Matt asked. 

“Everything you do out there in the streets, Red, it doesn't work. Did you know that?”

“Oh, and what you're doing is better?”

“What I do, I just do. It's out of necessity.”

“Come on. You know you're not the only one, right? Who did you lose? Huh? Was it someone you loved? Well, boo-hoo. Let me tell you something, buddy. Everybody's lost someone. Doesn't mean you have to do this. 

“Well, loss doesn't work the same for everybody, Red.” He chuckled wryly. “Yeah, that's right.”

“It's clearly not working for you.”

“Maybe not. We don't get to pick the things that fix us, Red. Make us whole. Make us feel purpose. My moment of clarity? It came from the strangest of places. What kind of name is The Devil of Hell's Kitchen, anyway? I mean, really?”

“I didn't ask for that name.”

“I'm sorry, I don't see you running from it.”

“Well what am I supposed to do, go to the papers and say 'Hey, sorry to interrupt your work. I'm the local vigilante, you know, the one who is wanted by basically everyone? But don't worry, I'm not gonna beat the living crap outta you, I just really don't like the name you've given me. Please, do me a favour and just call me Matt.”

For a few seconds there was stunned silence. Then: “Your name's Matt?” Frank let out a quiet chuckle. “You did not just tell me your name.”

“Doesn't matter.” God, how he hoped the other man would forget that as soon as possible. “I don't do this to hurt people.”

“Yeah, so what is that, just a job perk?” Luckily he dropped the name-thing immediately. Which could only mean that he really didn't care about who Daredevil was and Matt wasn't gonna ask why. 

“I don't kill anyone.”

“Is that why you think you're better than me?”

“No.”

“Is that why you think you're a big hero?”

“It doesn't matter what I think or what I am. People don't have to die.”

“Come on, Red. You believe that?”

“I believe it's not my call, and it ain't yours either.”

“Somebody ask you to put on that costume or you take it upon yourself? You know what I think of you, hero? I think you're a half-measure. I think you're a man who can't finish the job. I think that you're a coward. You know the one thing that you just can't see? You know you're one bad day away from being me.”

“Yeah.” It was scary how true those words wore. But suddenly a noise caught Daredevil's attention. He turned his head and listened, the sound of keys jangling, then a door unlocking. “Someone's coming.”

“Shit. Guess I'd better make a run for it.”

“Hey, don't hurt him.”, Matt hissed. 

“Yeah? Let's hope he doesn't give me a reason to.”

“What's all that noise? If it's you damned kids again, I swear I'm callin' the cops!” It was an elder man, peeking into the darkness of the nightly rooftop.

“I'll say this once, Red. You make one sound, and I'll open his head up all over this roof.”

Matt only nodded, but he followed every step the other one took, listening closely to the conversation.

 

“Hello?” The old man opened the creaking door, trying to see in the light of his flashlight.

“This is really not a good time.” The Punisher's appearance was so sudden, that the man dropped his flashlight.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Frank.”

“What are you doing up here, Frank?”

“Well, the truth is, um, I'm pretty sure that this roof, right here, this is the, uh this is the last patch of real estate in the entire goddamn United States where a man can just have a little peace, be by himself, and” He inhaled deeply. “have a smoke.”

“Never seen you around.”

“Yeah, no. I'm, uh, in town just visiting my crazy sister.”

“Betty in 2B?” The man squinted.

“I see you've had the pleasure.”, Frank chuckled, quickly accepting the provided lie.

“Can't say I blame you.”

“Nah.”

“My wife's the same. Made me quit a long time ago.”

“You know what they say.”

“It's for our health.”

Daredevil started straining against his chains again, turning his ears away from the two men, using all of his strength, until finally, they gave in and fell to the floor with loud jangling. Shit. He quickly turned his focus back to the two other men, but nobody had been shot. Yet. Better keep in place until nobody could get hurt anymore. 

But now the elder man was suspicious: “What was that?”

“Uh, it's just a rat.”

“We exterminated.”

Frank cocked his gun behind the door, aiming at the other one through the thin metal. “Lot of guys they half-ass it. Remember my uncle used to tell me that all the time. He fumigated.”

“Hard work.”

“Yeah, well. It's all he could get after the war. You know, curse of a soldier.”

“Ain't that the truth.”

“Yeah.”

“You serve?”

“'Nam, 3rd Marine Division.”

“Fighting 3rd, huh?”

“Goddamn right. You? “

“Yeah, yeah. Iraq, Afghanistan.”

“Welcome home.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I gotta go down right now, but, you, you smoke as much as you like, son.”

Frank chuckled. “Thank you, sir.”

“All right, son.”

“All right.” He uncocked his gun, but called once more: “Hey, Marine!”

“Yeah?”

“Semper Fi.” Again he chuckled, then the door slammed shut and he quickly stamped back to the – hopefully – still captivated fellow vigilante.

 

“Frank. That's your real name? You get off threatening innocent people?”

“He was only in danger because you squealed, because you can't follow orders.”

“You had a gun on him. You thumbed back the hammer.”

“Yeah, well, that was for you. Part of the show.”

Matt laughed dryly. “What does that mean?”

“I really have to spell it out for you, Red? Huh? I'm disappointed. Listen carefully, okay? You listening? Yeah? How 'bout now?” He cocked his gun against the Devil's head. “You listening? Feel it? I'm not a bad guy, Red.”

“You wanna explain that to the orphans and the widows of the men you killed?”

“For Christ's sake, that's what you think? I'm just some crazy asshole going around unloading on whoever I want to?”

“Yeah, that's exactly what I think.”

“That it?”

“You think you're anything else?”, Matt snarled.

“I think that the people I kill need killing, that's what I think.”

“You left men hanging from meathooks!”, he exclaimed.

“They got off easy, in my opinion.”

“You shot up a hospital.”

“Yeah, and nobody got hurt who didn't deserve it.”

“Oh, yeah. What about you, Frank? What happens the day someone decides you deserve it?”

“I'll tell you what, they better not miss.”

“Come on, you run around this city like it's your damn shooting gallery.”

“Yeah, what do you do? What do you do? You act like it's a playground. You beat up the bullies with your fists. You throw 'em in jail, everybody calls you a hero, right? And then a month, a week, a day later, they're back on the streets doing the same goddamn thing.”

“Yeah, so you just put 'em in the morgue.”

“You're goddamn right, I do.”

“You ever doubt yourself, Frank?”

“Not even for a second.”

“Really? Really? You never think for one second, 'Shit, I just killed a human being.'”

“That's being pretty generous.”, Frank interrupted, but Matt ignored him. 

“A human being who did a lot of stupid shit, maybe even evil, but had one small piece of goodness in him. Maybe just a scrap, Frank, but something. And then you come along, and that one tiny flicker of light gets snuffed out forever.”

“I think you're wrong.”

“Which part?”

“All of it. I think there's no good in the filth that I put down, that's what I think.”

“And how do you know?”

“I just know. Look around, Red. This city, it stinks. It's a sewer. It stinks and it smells like shit and I can't get the stink out of my nose. I think that this world, it needs men that are willing to make the hard call. I think you and me are the same!”

“That's bullshit, Frank, and you know it!”

“Only I do the one thing that you can't. You hit 'em, and they get back up. I hit 'em, and they stay down. It's permanent. I make sure that they don't make it out on the street again. I take pride in that.”

“Let me ask you this.”

“What's that?”

“What about hope?”

“Oh, fuck.”

“Come on, Frank.”

“You wanna talk about Santa Claus? You wanna talk about Santa Claus?”

“I live in the real world too, and I've seen it.”

“Yeah? What have you seen?”

“Redemption, Frank.”

“Ah, Jesus Christ.”

“It's real. And it's possible. The people you murder deserve another chance.”

“What, to kill again? Rape again? Is that what you want?”

“No Frank.”, Matt yelled, agitation letting his voice vibrate. He finally pushed the broken chains away and stood up with one swift motion. The Punisher seemed a little surprised at that, but didn't make any attempt to start another fight. One with flailing limbs and guns, anyway. Instead he waited for the fellow vigilante to continue. “To try again.”, Matt panted. “To try. And if you don't get that, there's something broken in you you can't fix, and you really are a nutjob.”

“What did you say?”

“You're unhinged Frank. You are. You think God made you a one-man firing squad.” He chuckled. “But you're wrong. There is goodness in people, even in you. And you're gonna have to kill me, 'cause I'm never gonna stop coming for you, until I take you down. You wanna know why?” 

“Why's that?”

“Because you're insane.” And with that he jumped off the roof, not wanting to risk getting shot. Again.


End file.
